Beware of squirrels.

Now, I consider nothing better than spending a Saturday afternoon cruising around on Celeste and discovering new territory. With plenty of land to cover, I decided to check out the trails along the Snake River in Clarkston, WA and Lewiston, ID. I first stopped by Michele's so she could bring me down to the best parking spot and give me an idea of where to go. To preface, the trails along the Snake River almost identically match those beside the Cape Cod Canal -- relatively flat with a few hills and paved. She informed me I could access both sides by simply crossing either bridge as it has it's own bike lane -- pretty rad, I know. Ready to go, we said good-bye and parted ways. Setting off, I could feel my mind releasing itself and begin to slow, preparing to take in the new scenery I now call "home." As I rode along, the first thing I felt came from the sky -- the sun beat down on me and instantly I regretted not wearing my tank jersey. You see, the one thing I immediately caught onto about the west that parallels the east coast is the fluctuating weather patterns. You can wake up in the morning with the temperature around 55 degrees, then two hours later you find yourself ripping your layers off because the thermometer now reads 80 degrees. I am grateful for the lack of humidity, though! I find describing the landscape here quite difficult, the uniqueness of its beauty astounds me and often leaves me speechless. Anyways, I made my way down the path and came across a beach. Hold the phone. A beach?! Yes, you read correctly. No, it was nothing compared to the sand dunes and ocean you’re probably envisioning, but more like a 4-foot wide “sand” bar alongside the river. Regardless, I enjoyed the attempt. I rode past campsites filled with families sitting in camp chairs. Again, the familiar contrast of the golden hills and bright blue sky surfaced as I made my way into Hells Canyon State Park… and then the adventure began. Without much warning, the paved trail I had casually been coasting on abruptly came to a halt and lead to dirt road. Thinking I merely had to go down the road a ways and I would find myself back on the pavement, I continued. I looked around, and out of the corner of my eye I sighted a trail. Score! I made my way up the still dirt road and then before I could react, my tire sunk and I could go no further except onto the ground below me. I hit quite the pocket of sand. I began laughing. For the record, I haven’t fell off my bike with my clip-in shoes since the first 3 months of using them -- about 4 years ago. I decided that now would be the appropriate time to walk up the hill towards the path, and when I reached the path, disappointment overcame me. It was gravel. No way. I turned around and headed back on the path, deciding to go on the Clarkston side of the river. I made my way across the bike lane portion of the bridge without incident. When suddenly, and completely out of nowhere, a squirrel jets out in front my tire… within inches of committing squirrel-suicide! Startled, and again laughing, I had a feeling my bike ride would not be boring. I road to Asotin (pronounced like a Assonet and Stoughton, minus a few syllabus) and when the trail faded, I turned back. I saw a girl, probably around 4 years old, riding her bicycle with training wheels with her Mom. As I sped by, I heard her say, “I want to be like her!” Trying to hold back tears, a smile erupted. A ways down the path, I decided to dismount from my bike and take a stretch. After a few minutes, I got back on and “cling.” I stood up to investigate. A small rectangular piece of metal lie on the ground. I picked it up and attempted to figure out where it came from. With nowhere on my bike I could logically place it, I picked up my foot and realized it came off my cleat. Somehow the screw came loose… and it looked like I had a screw loose when I tried finding it! Luckily some cyclists road by, noticed my confusion, and kindly helped retrieve the screw. I continued riding since my shoe was secure enough I could do so, and came across another dilemma, how do I get across the second bridge? The “blue bridge” had no special bike on-ramp and somehow I found myself in the Costco parking lot. Clearly I made a wrong turn, so I managed to get on the sidewalk that went over the bridge and I ignored the sign that read, “Bicycling prohibiting on sidewalk.” When I got to the other side, I faced another situation, getting to the opposite side of the road. The busy, and confusing, intersection forced me to put my thinking cap on over my helmet. Needless to say, I made it to the bike trail, but not without nearly wiped out on the train tracks. And then, the geese! At least 20 just completely clogging traffic on the trail. I inched closer and they finally waddled out of the way enough for me to pass. After 24-ish miles, I finally reached my car with dirt and sweat covering my body. I opened the trunk and laid out and made some phone calls since I had service. Then, a man comes over and says, “Hey, looks like you got a bit of a problem here, huh?” Clearly confused, I walked over and noticed the front tire of my bike was completely flat. I could only laugh at this point and confess it had not been flat when I got off. So, with my screw-less shoe and flat tire, I called it a day for outdoor activities.